Mistress Of Seduction
by XxThe SirenxX
Summary: An assasin, a vampyre, and a lover like no other. These are the tales of Esmeralda Mandetta's most recent lovers, and how they came to be so. An accompanying piece to Long Time No See - OC X CC
1. Attention, Dear Readers!

Hello! So, I have a few quick things to say about this little collection of stories!

If you haven't read my other story (that this is actually a side-note of), then you might be a little confused as to who Esmeralda is. Though this piece can be read on its own, if you are puzzled in any way, you are welcome to message me, or feel free to read my story Long Time No See. The reason this isn't in my actual main story is because I felt it would seem like I put these little one-shots in deliberately, and I couldn't find anywhere where they would all fit naturally. And one of my reviewers suggested I write little stories for all of Esmeralda's 'bed-buddies', and this was created.

If you are currently reading my story, hi! You know I mentioned five people in the chapter 'The Old Game', and they were all people/demons/Shinigami that Esmeralda had slept with? Well, these are the tales of how she met them, and ended up sleeping with them. And yes, they are lemons, for all you perverted fans out there ;)…

Each character will probably have two chapters dedicated to how Esmeralda met them and got together with them. This is because if they had just one chapter, then it would be roughly 15,000 words long for each character, and I figured people would rather read two shorter chapters that spread out the story, rather than one that crammed all the story into one sitting.

Feel free to rate, review, follow and fav, and maybe check out my other work. I'm also on Deviantart as LadyFaustus, so you can look me up there too.

Thanks for reading, and byeee!


	2. Alleyway Annoyances - Undertaker Pt 1

The moon positively glowed in the night sky, illuminating the mortal realm below. The stars placed strategically around it glittered and sung with their radiant light, their beauty unmatched by anything else in the world. A peaceful breeze drifted in between houses, danced along alleyways, and hugged all those who were still out at this mystical hour. When the working day was done, the wondrous city of London faded away into a simply lovely charcoal landscape, small dots of gold scattered throughout the shadows. The capital and its inhabitants slept, their dreams filled to the brim with hope and love. Only the most comforting and relaxing sounds echoed through the night; the gentle rumble of trains, the sounds of late night birds and creatures calling out to each other in the dark… and the utterly magnificent cursing coming from a certain abandoned alleyway.

Foul words tumbled out of Esmeralda's pretty mouth as she cursed again, as yet another one of her lock-picks snapped upon use. _God damnit!_ How much defence did a simple Undertaker's shop need? Grumbling something about death and maiming, she took another strip of metal out of her pack, and placed it softly in the keyhole of the door. Steadying her hand, she took a deep breath making sure all her concentration was on her movements. After shuffling so that she was more comfortable, Esmeralda slowly began to move her wrist in a clockwise motion – only for the metal to snap in half as soon as her hand moved.

"Oh, for the love of-!"

A string of colourful and outdated curses left her lips once more, and she slammed a fist into the ground beneath her, cursing when her flesh landed on the remnants of a broken ale bottle. Blood seeped out of her skin and dropped delicately onto the dull ground beneath her. Sighing in hopelessness, Esmeralda placed her hand to her lips, and began to suckle the sticky liquid from her wound, trying to slow the flow. When the wound was not spurting out her body fluids, she wiped her wrist on her clothes, falling back into the wall of the alley. She allowed her head to slump back onto the brick wall beside where she was working, groaning when she hit her skull a little bit too hard, and a sigh of extreme irritation and impatience left her pale lips. Surely, this was not meant to be this hard?! For a store that only dealt with dead bodies, it seemed to have a rather impressive lock on the back door; more impressive than it should have had.

Talking of dead bodies, Esmeralda let her eyes flicker over to the black bag leaning up against the wall, the humanoid shape causing her to feel as though the contents of the bag were watching her unimpressed. She scoffed at her own stupidity, an action quickly followed by the wrinkling of her nose as the smell of decaying flesh entered her nostrils. She sent the body bag a glare, as though doing so would cause it to stop radiating off such a putrid stench. When she had no such luck, Esmeralda raised her hand and wiped the tiredness from her eyes. _Stupid. Unnecessary. That's what this contract was. _This was a job for one of the younger recruits, one of the trainees. It would have been good practice for them. She failed to see the reason they had sent _her_, one of the best, for a task as mundane as this. Already, she had had to run all the way across London's rooftops without being seen whilst carrying a stale and rotting body. Then it had started to rain, and she'd almost lost her footing several times. And now her Lockpicks were breaking every time she tried to use them. Honestly, she was about to rip the damn door of its hinges.

Then again, it had been a while since she had… how did the youths of today put it? 'Had some action'. Honestly, she was yearning a man's touch, the feeling of being full, the physical attention. But with her employers sending her on silly little time consuming assignments like this, she had little time for herself at the moment. This meant that she was tensed, hormonal, and just wanting a good rutting. Oh god, she was starting to sound like a mortal whore.

The moon lit up her sitting space like the good friend he was, allowing her to see her surroundings better, but also constantly reminding her that she was running out of time. If she didn't get inside and swap the body around before dawn, then the Undertaker who resigned here would carry out the autopsy and people would find out that the man hadn't actually died from falling drunk onto a bog spike and then she would get in trouble and would probably be hunted down and pulled limb from limb by- Esmeralda shook her head.

These thoughts weren't helping.

Deciding to give it one last chance, Esmeralda stood up and turned back to face the door, leaning on the wood to steady herself as she bent down to retrieve another lock-pick. A small and muffled yelp left her lips when the door swung open flawlessly, and she stumbled inside, landing on the floorboards with a groan. Instantly she snapped her head up, wondering what the hell had happened. Scrambling to her feet, Esmeralda bent down and examined the lock and door-handle. Her next actions involved her slapping herself in the face, mumbling about what an idiot she was. No wonder the lock-picks had been breaking every time she tried to move them. She was trying to pick a lock that wasn't there. She could only guess the Undertaker had been careless tonight, forgetting to lock this particular door. It seemed coincidental, but at this point, Esmeralda was willing to accept that little bit of luck.

Quickly darting outside to grab the body bag, the assassin tugged it into the building with her as quietly as she could, followed shortly by her small pack. When both living and corpse were inside and out of the way of any prying eyes, Esmeralda shut the door leading into the alley, and sighed a deep sigh of relief. Maybe things would be a lot smoother from here on out? Quietly reaching into her pack, Esmeralda drew out a small vial of dark liquid, gently popping the cork out that rested in the neck of the glass bottle. Pulling her cowl down slightly, Esmeralda swiftly tipped her head back and gulped down the small amount of liquid. Instantly, her vision clouded red, only to fade back to normal several seconds later, the blurred crimson in her eyes giving way to sharper images that appeared to be illuminated. With her vision increased, and therefore less likely to walk into anything in the dark, Esmeralda took a quick look around.

Esmeralda could only assume that the Undertaker himself lived above the shop, as she had seen windows on the second floor upon finding the building. Letting her eyes roam over to her right, she saw a small staircase leading up to the second floor, shrouded in darkness. At this late hour, she was certain that the man would be asleep, so as long as she was quiet, she was sure to complete her mission without any hiccups, and for that she was happy. She wanted to be back at her own residence as soon as possible.

Cautiously and carefully lifting the bag above her head, Esmeralda held the body in the way a groom holds a bride, making sure to have complete control of how it moved around. The last thing she wanted was for the corpse to knock anything over because she was careless with it. Taking a hesitant first step, Esmeralda tested for any creaking floorboards, and when she found none, she began her careful walk forward. One step led flawlessly into another, and another, and soon enough, she was standing in the doorway of the shop's main room. Curtains covered the front windows heavily, and that bought another peaceful sigh from her lips. After scanning for the body she wanted, Esmeralda located it on a table that had been set up in the centre of the room. Strolling over to it with ease, she gently laid the corpse in the bag on the floor, unzipping the bag as quietly as she could. A sudden smell overwhelmed her, and she had to hold her breath to prevent herself from gagging. As efficiently as she could, Esmeralda took the body in her arms and placed it onto the table next to the actual victim. She then took the victim and placed that body into the bag, making sure that it was secure before zipping it up, hiding it from the rest of the world. After tying up the top and completely closing the bag, Esmeralda wiped her hands on her clothe trousers, smiling in pained relief that the job was over.

That was when she heard it.

The creepiest damn giggle she had ever heard.

Spinning around as fast as she could, Esmeralda caught her foot in the cloth of the body bag and went tumbling down into the nearest coffin. Her head narrowly avoided colliding with the edge of the wooden box, and her body was enveloped by dark red velvet. She cursed loudly, and then slammed her hand over her mouth, hoping that the man upstairs hadn't heard her. Waiting for several moments in silence, Esmeralda listened out for any signs that someone else was in the room with her. But when her sensitive ears picked up nothing, she shook her head, agreeing with herself mentally that it must have simply been her tired mind.

Growling, Esmeralda pushed herself up and out of the coffin, wanting to get out of that shop before she completely compromised the mission. Standing up and dusting herself off, she swore again – something she seemed to be doing a lot of tonight. However, the sound of creaking wood made her freeze in her movements, and she slowly raised her head to look around the room. Nothing. She used her sharp vision to peer into every nook and cranny that she could see. Nothing. She glanced into the doorway, and into what little bit of the corridor leading back to the alley she could without moving. Still nothing. Alright, now she was starting to worry for her sanity.

Then there was a faint feeling of air ruffling her hair by her ear.

Esmeralda froze in her place.

'…'

"'Ello love..."

Instantly Esmeralda reached for the dagger attached to her thigh, tearing it out of its sheath and swinging it around to hit the person behind her. However, before she could even fully turn around, somebody had grabbed her wrist, bending it back sharply, causing her to gasp in shock. The dagger clattered to the floor, and Esmeralda looked up into the eyes of her attacker. Well, as much of his eyes as she could see.

Long silver hair hung loose around the figure, who she could automatically tell was male. Black robes hung from his lean and slender frame, with a sash of some sort slung over his shoulder and secured around his waist. A top hat that was far to long and eccentric sat atop his head, the material leading off of it wrapping around him. Peering up at his face through the dark, Esmeralda spotted several scars that ran across his face and neck. His skin was pale, but what unnerved her most were his eyes. Despite being concealed by his choppy fringe, she could see two glowing orbs of the brightest green-yellow. She'd seen eyes like those before. Instantly, her undead heart began dancing in her chest to the song of fear that suddenly flowed through her mind.

"What we have here then? A grave robber? No, you're far too pretty to be one of those, aren't you, my sweet." The man reached up and ran a long black finger nail along her jaw, tilting Esmeralda's head up to look at him directly. "Working for the black market maybe? Looking to find organs to sell to those estranged doctors and scientists that are always running around?" It was then that the man looked down at the floor, staring at the dagger for a moment, before a wicked grin spread across his slightly obscured face. "Or, is this little lamb an assassin? If so, I wonder who you're Shepard is?" Esmeralda tried to pull her hand away from the man, but his grip was like a vice, and her resistance was met only with his nails digging into her flesh. "Oh, don't struggle, my dear. Why don't you tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine?" Esmeralda shook, stuttering at the strangeness of this man. He sighed in disappointment when she did not respond, and he shook his head. "Oh, people don't have any manners these days do they? But, I'm still courteous." Suddenly, he tightened his grip on Esmeralda's wrist, bending her arm back, and forcing her to her knees in front of him.

"I'm the Undertaker, and you, whoever you are, have interrupted the rest of my guests and I." The man gestured to the various coffins around him, and Esmeralda groaned through her pain. This guy was the Undertaker?! "Now, I understand that people have to make a living in this day and age, but I'm not very fond of people stealing my own work." Esmeralda looked up at him, growling through gritted teeth. "Oh, feisty one you are!" He laughed. "Ah, but I don't wish to hurt you, no matter how annoying you have been so far. But if I let you go, will you promise not to try and stab me again?" Her eyes widened. She had definitely not been expecting that. But she wanted to get out of here as soon as she could, so she simply nodded. "Good."

The Undertaker released her from her grasp, and held his hand out to her. Esmeralda stared at it for several seconds, her gaze flickering back to his face then back to his hand many times. Eventually, she took it cautiously, and Undertaker gently helped her to her feet. When he pulled his hand away, however, he frowned upon seeing that it was coated in blood, both try and fresh. His bright eyes flickered to Esmeralda's hand, and he cocked his head to the side when he saw that she had a rather nasty gash running along her palm. "How'd you do that, deary?" He asked, pointing one of his long fingers at the wound. Esmeralda glanced at it, holding her up so that she could see it clearer.

"I, uh… I cut it whilst I was trying to break into this place." She said bashfully, but instead of Undertaker reprimanding her, he simply giggled.

"You are quite a clumsy girl aren't you? Cutting yourself, falling into coffins…" The Undertaker walked over to the counter by the wall, and disappeared down behind it for a moment. He appeared once more with a box of matches in hand, and candles in the other. Placing them on the counter, he struck a match and lit the candles one by one, illuminating the shop enough for both of their eyes to see easier. The Undertaker then got out several salves and bandages, and began stacking them in piles as he searched for the correct one. Felling awkward, the assassin decided to speak up.

"Esmeralda." The Undertaker looked up, startled, cocking his head to the side.

"I'm sorry, what was that love?" He asked, grinning widely again.

"Esmeralda. That's my name. You told me yours – it's only fair for me to return the gesture." The Undertaker smiled even wider, and beckoned her forward. "Well, Esmeralda, it's a pleasure to meet you." The assassin walked towards the man, and he took her hand in his, beginning to examine it. "Now, while I fix this up, mind telling me what you were doing in my shop in the first place?"


	3. Coffin Comforts - Undertaker Pt 2

Three months had passed since that fateful meeting between Shingami and assassin, when the Undertaker had proceeded to heal Esmeralda and subsequently let her go free. The mortician didn't let her take the body, out of respect for his guests, but he did quite happily lie about the cause of death to the authorities, earning the favour and gratitude of the vampyre assassin. He even disposed of the other body for her, burying it in some obscure location where non one was sure to find it. Esmeralda's employers, of course, never suspected a thing, and gave her the promised payment, plus a bonus for carrying out the task without any complications. The assassin revisited the Undertaker, offering him half of the profit as thanks, but he denied the large sum of gold, catching Esmeralda by surprise. That was the day she learnt of his disliked for money, the Queen, and his extraordinary love of all things amusing

Whether it was his kind and carefree attitude, or his cheerful personality in a world of death and lies, Esmeralda found herself drawn more and more to the estranged death God. She constantly found herself wondering the rooftops near his shop when she was off duty, visiting him during the day when she had nothing else better to do. The Undertaker was a nice change to all the serious and uptight imbeciles she had to deal with on the job, and his never ending supply of jokes had her smiling more often then usual. In fact, she couldn't remember smiling so much since…. well, she didn't want to think about that.

Over the coming days, weeks, and months, Esmeralda found herself visiting the Undertaker whenever she could – that was, when her superiors weren't sending her around the country to slice someone's neck open. The time since their first meeting had been speckled with lunches, tea parties, and dinners. It turned out that both of our supernatural beings had a dark respect for the art of death, the precision with which it struck, and how amusing it was to watch humans try to escape it. Esmeralda had not encountered such a cheerful person in many years, nevertheless in such a morbid profession. Undertaker, on the other hand, was pleased to have finally met someone with whom he could share his love of all things grisly with who wouldn't shy away, someone who knew what it was like to be surrounded by death. To the two of them, this was a common ground, a subject they were most familiar with. The Undertaker had even begun to teach Esmeralda the ways of the human anatomy, so that she could kill in ways that would be less obvious, showing her how to make concoctions that could disable the entire nervous system. Neither of the two, however, had commented on the other's obvious supernatural tendencies, although they both knew exactly what the other one was. It was more of a game to see who would say something first. And it was a nice change for Esmeralda, for somebody to be more interested in what she was like compared to what she was.

It was suffice to say, Esmeralda was glad she had met the giggling Grim Reaper.

And he wasn't to bad to look at, either…

A sudden burst of cold air entered the shop as Esmeralda clambered through the doorway, shivering from the chilly October air. The sky was stained orange and red, as though the very heavens were on fire, yet the air outside was brittle and icy, clawing at all who walked within its clutches. Shaking her hood off of her head and tightening the strings on her bag, Esmeralda blinked rapidly, allowing her eyes to get used to the sudden change in light.

"Undertaker?" Her voice rang out through the shop, but there came no instant reply. Shrugging off her thick woollen coat, the assassin called out again, hoping for a sign that her dear friend was in. "Undertaker? It's me! I've got good news!" She was met with the same response as before – utter silence. That was, until two arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her waist, pulling her back against a lean chest. Esmeralda squealed and snapped her head around to look behind her, giving a glare at the laughing man clad in black.

"Hehe! You should have seen your face, my dear. Beautiful as always, but with more essence of stupidity." The mortician laughed again at Esmeralda's irritated expression, his shrill sound of amusement continuing even when she spoke.

"Stop sneaking up on me! You almost scared me to death!"

"That would have been a shame – though, I would have finally been able to examine that lovely body of yours." The Undertaker smirked, and Esmeralda pushed herself away, rolling her eyes.

"Very funny." She muttered, crossing her arms. The funeral-director adjusted his top hat before addressing his companion, his voice still laced with laughter.

"Now, you said you had some news for me, my dear?" He asked, walking over to shop's main counter.

"Yes, actually." Esmeralda replied, watching her friend root about the cupboards for something. "You know that job I did over in Paris a week back – the one you created that poison for?" The Undertaker hummed in agreement, turning back around to face Esmeralda, holding out a jar for her. The assassin quickly reached in and plucked a bone-shaped treat out of the container, nodding her thanks, placing it to her lips and nibbling on it whilst she carried on. "Well, because of how clean the kill was, and the fact that there was no suspicion at all about murder, the others decided it was time my work got recognised. They've given me the next two weeks off, and a pay rise." She delicately threw the remainder of the biscuit on her mouth, and turned back to the Undertaker whilst reaching into her drawstring bag. The mortician watched as she pulled out a large bottle of fine Romanian wine, and a smile crept across her painted lips.

"Why don't we celebrate?"

Almost two hours later, and Esmeralda was a tipsy, giggling wreck. It turned out that the Undertaker had a rather endless supply of fresh blood, due to his profession. He had happily mixed some of the sticky substance into her beverage, and said assassin was now gulping down her seventh beaker of the concoction, whilst the mortician was calmly sipping from a beaker that was filled purely with wine.

"I must say, Esmeralda, you're drinking that blood like a Vampyre." The Undertaker commented, causing Esmeralda to roll her eyes.

"Oh, come off of it, you knew that I was different the moment you laid eyes on me. Just like I knew you were no normal human when I saw your face." The Undertaker reached up and ran his hands along his scars, feigning hurt.

"Was it the hair that gave me away?" Esmeralda snorted.

"Hair means nothing – just look at me." At this comment, she wove her hand through her hair, ruffling it up. "No, it was your eyes; I've only ever seen that colour on a select few beings, and they all shared one common denominator." She took another swig from her beaker, and spoke again. "I'll admit though, I don't think I've come across one of your kind in such a… abnormal profession before."

"Neither have I come across a vampyre working as an assassin." Undertaker smirked back.

"What can I say; immortality gets boring after a few centuries. Not to mention lonely." Esmeralda said, resting her hand in her head.

The Undertaker chuckled to himself, watching the female in front of him. He could see the language that her body was speaking: her crossed legs, her open chest, splayed arms. And that last comment of hers was enough to confirm what it was she wanted in her tipsy state.

The Undertaker would not lie; it had been a fair few decades since he had felt the flesh of a woman beneath his hands. After becoming what he was today, and leaving behind the world of Grim Reapers, paperwork and cinematic records, few interesting people had come into his life. Most were terrified of him because of his profession, or found his optimism disturbing, so Miss Mandetta was a nice change. Her interest in his life, his profession, and his work – it made him feel less like an outcast than he already was. Of course, the two of them had been acquainted for some time now – maybe it would be so taboo to do something… 'interesting' together. But he had yet to act on her subliminal messages. Honestly, he expected she had simply had a bit too much wine, but the Undertaker could not deny, she was a lovely specimen of the opposite sex. That long, abnormal yet enchanting hair, those swirling eyes that glittered like gem stones, pale skin that looked so soft to touch, and those wondrous, full lips that he wanted to feel against his own flesh…

You know, maybe the Undertaker had also had a bit too much wine.

"I highly doubt you get lonely, Miss Mandetta – your beauty must enchant all the men you come across." The Undertaker said, voice dropping an octave. Esmeralda shivered at his voice, goose bumps crawling along her flesh. She glanced up at the Undertaker from under long lashes, a smirk forming on her lips.

"What about you – I'm sure woman must fawn all over such a strong and smart Shinigami such as yourself. I cant be the only one that visits you often." Esmeralda leant forward, her cloth shirt dipping enough for Undertaker to be able to see down the dark material. After removing his gaze from her milky skin, the Undertaker coughed.

"I'm afraid not." He replied, and the vampyre smirked once more. The mortician quickly gulped down the rest of his wine, his head just starting to feel a little bit dizzy. "You know, I'm rather interested, Esmeralda," He said, and she cocked an eyebrow at him, "When we first met, you almost stabbed me with a rather nice looking knife." Leaning forward, he continued. "I'm intrigued as to where were you hiding it."

The assassin chuckled, and leant in closer.

"Under my apparel – always good to have the element of surprise." The Undertaker smirked, and he himself leant in closer. He had to steady himself on the chair, and his breath smelt faintly of alcohol, but he wasn't really concerned.

_After all, it's wasn't like he was drunk, was it? _

"I can't help but wonder, what else do you keep hidden under your clothes?"

_Yep, definitely drunk…_

Esmeralda smiled darkly, and raised her beaker to her lips. She took a gently gulp of blood, and then lowered the beaker, placing it on the table next to them. A single drop of the crimson liquid escaped her mouth, cascading down her lips and dribbling down her chin, moving faster down her flesh as she spoke.

"Would you like to find out?" In reply, Undertaker leant forward quickly and placed his tongue on her flesh, catching the drop of blood on her jaw line. He allowed his tongue to travel softly along her jaw bone, curving around to her ear, and proceeded to slip his appendage around the cartilage, causing her to gasp. He laughed at her sensitive reaction, and when he spoke, she shivered.

"I would like that very much."

As soon as those words left his mouth, Esmeralda pulled back and wrapped her hands in his long hair, pulling him towards her for a bruising kiss. In retaliation, Undertaker wrapped his arms around her curved waist, pulling her quickly into his lap so that she was straddling him. For who knows how long, the two had been throwing flirtatious comments back and forth between each other, their supernatural instincts calling out to the other's aura. They both needed action, and they both wanted it. Weeks of pent up lust and want were finally let loose by the courage the alcohol gave the both of them, and right then, they were both happy for that fact, as Esmeralda's tongue begged for Undertaker's touch. The mortician granted that wish by sucking it into his mouth, curling his own muscle around it so that it was forced to join in a passionate tango of lust and desperation. Esmeralda tangled her hands further in her companion's hair, knocking his hat off in the process. The piece of clothing fell to the floor unnoticed by the two, as the Undertaker began running his nails up and down the vampyre's back, causing her to mewl into his mouth. The Reaper quickly swallowed this delicious sound, his eyes closing blissfully as he felt Esmeralda's body against his. The way she rubbed against him was exquisite, and the way her hands searched for something to grab onto, the way she moaned like some common whore when he ran his nails across her skin… it was almost too much for him to bear.

Breaking away from his thin lips, Esmeralda stared into Undertaker's eyes, or what she could see of them. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, and she watched as a joyful grin grew on the Undertaker's face.

"Not bad deary, not bad at all." He said, cocking his head to one side and smiling. Esmeralda grinned back – this man's colourful attitude and happy tendencies were infectious.

"I personally expected worse from a man who works with the dead all day." She said, winking slyly. The Undertaker's smile turned dark, almost predatory, and he chuckled deeply and menacingly.

"Oh my dear," He said, and then ran his nails across her neck, causing her to gasp and throw her head back, the scratching sensation causing pleasure to shoot through her veins. "I think you'll find I can work a live body just as well as a dead one."

His lips met with her neck, and she gasped once more, running her hands down his back, his sides, anywhere she could reach. Taking a deep breath, Undertaker inhaled her scent, a beautiful aroma of death and lavender. Her hair tickled his face, causing him to giggle at its soft caress. Slowly opening his mouth against her shoulder, he drew circles with his tongue against her flesh, licking around the skin, tasting her. He would run his tongue down to her cleavage softly, gently, then back up to her jaw. When he ventured into the space between her neck and shoulder joint, she moaned softly, and he smirked. Biting softly on the skin there, he lathered it with attention from his lips, teeth and tongue, pulling at the flesh to make it taut and then kissing it when it became red.

As Undertaker focused on her neck, Esmeralda began growing impatient. As much as she loved running her hands over Undertaker, she thought it would be even better if there was no material in the way of his skin and her hands. She tugged at the top buttons of his cloak and shirt, but the man wouldn't pay heed to her suggestions. So, in the end, she decided to be vocal.

"Undertaker!" She wined, catching his attention. The mortician looked up at her, giggling like a fool.

"What is it, my dear?" He sang sweetly, cocking his head to the side in mock innocence.

"As much as I love the attention you're giving me, I would much prefer it if you were to take that blasted cloak off."

"Why, is there a stain on it?" The mortician looked down at himself, visually and sarcastically searching for any marks on his apparel. Esmeralda groaned, and pulled at his collar again.

"Please don't make me use my knife." She grumbled, and the Shinigami looked up at her, smirking, his teeth glinting in the candlelight.

"I didn't know you were into that sort of thing, Esmeralda?" The vampyre narrowed her eyes at him, and Undertaker laughed that laugh of his, quickly slipping Esmeralda off of his lap so that he could stand. Whilst the vampyre watched him anxiously, the Reaper untied his shawl, tossing it carelessly over the chair he had just been sitting on. He then began to unbutton his cloak, letting it fall from his shoulders. The Undertaker picked it up and folded it neatly, placing it over the back of his chair, before turning back to look at Esmeralda.

The vampyre herself could not believe what she was seeing. Underneath that damn cloak, the Undertaker wore a tight fitting white dress shirt, that did his body the justice his cloak did not. A pair of neat, pressed back trousers hung on his long legs, and Esmeralda allowed her eyes to roam appreciatively over his form. Undertaker giggled at her expression, and pulled her close, burying his nose in her hair again, yearning for that smell of decay and dignity that surrounded her. His pale hands slipped underneath the back of her shirt, slowly rising higher, weaving in and out of the strings of her corset. It was nice, for the Undertaker, to just be able to hold another being that was, well, alive. He could feel her heartbeat through her chest, and when he moved his head to place a kiss on her shapely neck, he could feel her pulse racing beneath her skin. It was nice to just hold someone who could hold him back.

In the end, however, Esmeralda had enough of his light touches, and began to hastily unbutton his shirt, desperately trying to get it off of his lean chest. When all the buttons were undone, she pushed it down his shoulder quickly, discarding it onto the floor somewhere, before standing back out of his grasp and throwing her own shirt over her head, letting it pool behind her on the floorboards. Quickly, she looked back at the Undertaker, and barked an order at him.

"Trousers. Boots. Now." Her voice was firm, and her tone was strong, and the Undertaker was left with nothing else to do but follow her demands. He kicked off his boots quickly, but still placing them both neatly next to his chair. He fumbled with the buttons on his trousers like mad, his skin tingling in anticipation for Esmeralda's touch. After hopping around whilst trying to get the bothersome material off of his legs, he folded them too, and glanced back at Esmeralda. When he saw her, the breath left his lungs.

Esmeralda came towards him as soon as her corset was off, wanting to feel his skin on hers, but she was stopped when the Undertaker grabbed her shoulders, preventing her from getting closer. She looked up at him, confused, and wondering if he was suddenly having second thoughts. The look on his face was one she had not seen before, one she could not read. The Undertaker circled around her; one hand always staying in contact with her flesh, as his eyes roamed over her curvaceous figure. He took in every single spot on her body, every single protruding muscle, every mark, every mole, and every scar. When he came back around to face her, he was smiling widely, and Esmeralda cocked her head to the side.

"What's so-"

"You're beautiful." That took the air out of the vampyre, and she looked up at the man before her with wide eyes. No man had ever said that to her with such certainty, as though it was a fact rather than an opinion. The way he said it… it was almost as if he actually really genuinely meant it. It was as though he wasn't just trying to flatter her into giving him her body. Esmeralda stuttered.

"T-thank you."

The Undertaker smiled, another genuine smile, and then drifted his gaze down her body once more. He leant into her, and placed a kiss to her head, then her ear, allowing his tongue to escape his lips and tickle her sensitive lobe. He then placed open mouthed kisses on her neck, moving down to her cleavage. Undertaker was kneeling on the floor now, looking up at her through his fringe.

"I must say my dear; your body is definitely one to be proud of." He whispered against her flesh, taking one of her breasts in his hand. Esmeralda gasped, digging her fingers into Undertaker's hair. Said mortician then began to gentle squeeze the plump flesh he held in his hand, rolling it around in his grasp gently so as not to hurt her. A lovely little moan left Esmeralda's lips, and this was Undertaker's cue to give her more, so he leant in and secured his lips around one of her buds, the combined warmth and wetness of his mouth causing Esmeralda to moan louder. She forced Undertaker's head as close as she could to her skin, whilst his tongue danced along the rigid skin of her bud and suckled at the pronounced flesh of her teat. As this went on, however, he began to roll the other bud that was not receiving oral attention in between his index finger and thumb, tugging on it softly every now and then to elicit more of those wonderful sounds from the marvellous woman above him. His slender hands hooked themselves into the hem of the white frilled skirt she had chosen to wear to his parlour, and he teasingly dragged it down her legs, letting his deft hands caress her skin as she went. When the material reached the floor, and she was left only in a pair of lace pantaloons, the Undertaker removed his mouth from her shapely chest, letting his lips drift down her skin, over her stomach, until he was gently nuzzling and pecking her silken underclothes.

Suddenly, Esmeralda pulled away from the Undertaker's hungry mouth, causing him to almost fall forward. When he looked up at her to question why she had moved, he saw the answer in her eyes. And he smiled. Standing up straight, he held his hand out for Esmeralda, and she took it almost instantly.

"I don't have a bed, and for that, I apologise; but I do have a coffin that I'm sure will suffice." Esmeralda chuckled, and the Undertaker smiled once more. He led her through the shop, down the corridor, and into a room that Esmeralda had failed to notice upon entering. "This is where I go when I wish to be alone – when I find the living a bore." There was an amused tone to his voice, and when he turned the handle on the door, he gestured Esmeralda in first, before entering himself and shutting the door behind him.

Before the pair was a large coffin, bigger compared the ones in the front of the shop, decorated on the inside with what appeared to be black silk.

"Oh, fancy." Esmeralda commented, sending Undertaker a wink. The man giggled, slipping his arm about her waist.

"I may not enjoy the Queen's coin, but that doesn't mean I don't like to indulge every once in a while. Anyway, a woman as lovely as you deserves only the best." There was that feeling again – that fluttering inside her chest that Esmeralda could not explain. The men she had bedded before only appreciated her for her body, her otherworldly beauty. But they had all only been after one thing – and none had ever stayed more than a night. For a man to look at her with such care, as though she was a fragile porcelain doll; for a man to say she was so attractive with so much genuine feeling, it was almost unheard of.

Undertaker caught sight of the distant look on Esmeralda's face, and he gently took her chin in his hand. Lifting her face upwards, he placed his lips so softly against hers it was almost as if she had been touched by a feather. The spark of safety it sent shooting throughout her body was welcome, yet unnerving at the same time. Never had someone touched her so delicately, so cautiously. When the Reaper pulled drew back, she saw him grin; but it wasn't the same grin he usually had plastered on his face. This one was… more mature, laced with lust and want.

The Undertaker took her hand in his, and slowly led her towards the bed, his glowing eyes roaming her body as he did so. When he felt the backs of his knees collide with the wooden edge, he wrapped his arms around Esmeralda, pulling her flush against him. Every muscle curved to fit against him, their skin moulding to the others. Taking a deep breath, the Undertaker stood silent for a few moments, breathing steadily. His respiratory patterns caused Esmeralda to be lulled into an almost drowsy state, a state full of security and trust. She hadn't noticed it before, but Undertaker was truly quite warm, and she felt secure in his embrace. The fact that he was taking time to cuddle her – _her, _the vampyre whore who had tried to kill him – made her tremble. She began to shake, and her breaths became raspy.

The Undertaker noticed this, and he could quickly calculate the reason why the woman in his arms was so emotional. Trying to soothe her, he reached up and ran a hand through her hair, smoothing her scalp but also pulling her head back. Leaning down, he ghosted his lips across the skin there, tracing red marks that were already beginning to appear as blemishes on her skin. His arms slid around her waist, and in one solid movement, he hitched Esmeralda up into his arms, her legs instinctively locking themselves around his hips. She gasped in surprise, but that was quickly muffled when the mortician placed his lips to hers once more, coaxing her tongue into his mouth and using it to distract her whilst he gracefully clambered into the coffin.

He laid Esmeralda beneath him on the silken sheets, and smiled at the sight of her beneath him. A stray piece of her snow-like hair floated onto her face, and the Undertaker swept it behind her ear with his nimble hand; proceeding to allow that hand to skim down her neck, side and hips until he was able to slip a single finger into the band of her undergarments. He kept eye contact with her as he slithered the piece of fabric down her legs until it was around her ankles. Esmeralda went to kick them off, but he stopped her, holding her legs down. Sliding down the sheets, the Undertaker pushed her legs up until they were bent at the knees. He slowly lifted her feet, until he was able to drag the garments fully off of her body. With her legs no longer bound by the bothersome material, the mortician gently prised Esmeralda's legs apart so that she was bared to him in all her womanly glory.

Said woman was currently blushing crimson, her body temperature soaring as the Undertaker touched her further. Small gasps left her lips, followed by pants of the man's title – the only name she knew him by. Jolts of pleasure ran along her entire body, her muscles twitching at the stimulation she was receiving. Oh, and when the Reaper put that wonderful mouth to use – well, it turned around it wasn't just the jokes that came out of it that could make her body shake. Slow, passionate movements; that was the treatment she was currently being given. Everything inside her felt like it was on fire, a roaring furnace of pleasure powered by the ambers of lust.

But Esmeralda had never been one to settle for second rate, and she knew that the Undertaker was holding back. She reached down and wound her fingers in his hair, pulling his away from his meal. His nails subsequently dug into her thighs as he rose slightly, looking at her face for any signs of disapproval.

"Undertaker…" Oh, the way she said his name; it sent tingles running down his body. "Yes, my dear?" His tone was gravely, lust dragging his voice down an octave. She carefully pulled him up, and he shifted until he was kneeling over her.

"..Please…" She begged, running her hands down his chest, and that was the only clue he needed as to what she wanted. Moving around on the sheets, the Undertaker began to discard himself of his briefs, suddenly realising that they were far too constricting on his hot and aching flesh. He dropped them over the edge of the coffin, and started crawling up Esmeralda's body, planting kisses of admiration as he went. His lips landed on her knee, drifted across her hipbone, ghosted across her chest and settled on her neck briefly. The Undertaker let his forehead connect with Esmeralda's, and the pair of them did nothing but stare at each other for a moment. The Reaper moved his hand along her thigh, wrapping her leg around his hip without her noticing, aligning himself with her just so. Absentmindedly, Esmeralda placed her hand within the hairs of the Undertaker's fringe, and quickly pushed them out of the way, so she could fully see his face.

Her eyes widened, and air left her mouth in a gasp of shock and sudden surprise.

And the Undertaker filled her to the hilt.

Esmeralda's world exploded in a rush of sensation; months without a bed partner causing her to throw her head back and let out a loud cry of ecstasy. The Undertaker himself groaned in pleasure, burying his head into the crook of Esmeralda's neck. The time she had spent away from a man caused her to grip him like a vice, and nothing could compare to how that felt. Wanting more, he drew back slowly, dragging out the feeling of her natural suction, how hot and smooth she felt. The vampyre moaned as she felt him rub against her in all the right places, her body trying to hold him in as he pulled out almost all the way, before her walls parted like the Red Sea to let him back in again. She clambered for something to grab onto, as the depth he was reaching with he slow yet powerful pace was enough to make her squirm. She hooked her other leg around his hip, crossing her ankles together and using them as an anchor to pull his body in closer.

The Undertaker leant up for a careless yet soft kiss, all tongue and lips yet still with that sense of finesse from earlier. Her nails dug into his back, words of pleasure and satisfaction spilling from her lips like water. With one particular solid movement, he did something to her that made her reach up and clamp her teeth down on her neck to stifle a scream. The pain that radiated from that area of his skin was like flames licking at his skin, and the feeling it brought was amazing. Deciding he quite liked that reaction, the Undertaker decided to do the same thing again. This time, Esmeralda slammed up to meet him, her hands flying to his hair and dragging him down so that she could wrap her mouth around his. The Undertaker returned the affection by slipping his hands underneath her back, tilting the assassin so that he could hit that one spot inside her again. When the need for air drove their lips apart, he dove for her neck, biting at it with his teeth in favour of growling like the monster he really was. Her neck bent to the side, giving him more flesh to play with, and more canvas to mark with splotches of crimson and purple.

The sudden tightening of her legs around his body warned him that she was almost at her limit, and the shaking of his own muscles signalled he wasn't too far off either. Esmeralda threw her hands up above her head, bowing her back as she began to arch off of the sheets. The Undertaker quickly grabbed her hands where they rested above her and linked their fingers, clawing at the bed sheets and using them to anchor his body for more powerful movements. Esmeralda's bruised lips moved wordlessly, words dying on her tongue as the air was driven out of her. The Reaper above her let loose a growl as his core muscles tightened further, before snapping suddenly. A long groan escaped his lips, the sound vibrating in Esmeralda's ear. That combined with the sudden rush she felt in her lower body from where she and the mortician was joined was enough to break her, and she let loose a wild and cracked scream as her own body reached its limit.

For a moment, there was silence. The Undertaker stayed slumped on top of Esmeralda, trying desperately to regain what air had left him in his moment of passion. Said vampyre gently ran her fingers through his hair, removing the sweaty clumps from his face. When he could breathe steadily again, Undertaker carefully drew himself out of Esmeralda and collapsed down next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. The mortician buried his nose in her hair, and Esmeralda giggled tiredly.

"That…" The Undertaker began, and pulled away far enough so that he could look Esmeralda in the eye, "Was absolutely amazing, my dear." The assassin nodded, snuggling up against the Reaper.

"It was. Though, we might have a bit of a problem." The Undertaker suddenly went wide eyed, concerned. Esmeralda took his hand and placed it gently on her stomach, raising an eyebrow at him in question. At her action, however, the Undertaker relaxed, and laughed.

"Don't worry, my dear. You won't have any fanged, glasses wearing off spring just yet." Wrapping Esmeralda back in his embrace, the Shinigami yawned. "I have some special medical 'pills' in the front of the shop. You may take them in the morning – that way, we won't have any vampyre-reaper mutants running around. Although, the idea does sound amusing." Esmeralda shook her head in disbelief, closing her eyes. But they suddenly reopened when she was quickly flipped back onto her back.

"Undertaker, what are you-" Esmeralda froze when she caught sight of the expression on the Undertaker's face. A wide, sinister grin was spread across his features, and when he spoke, his voice was filled with crazed amusement.

"You know, lovely, I never did punish you for breaking into my shop." He leant in close, biting down on the flesh of Esmeralda's ear.

"Now is as good as a time as any…"


End file.
